The Day The Music Died
by blacksta1n
Summary: it all happened at once, a new Prime Minister -guess who!- was appointed and all was chaos. resistance is futile. or is it? the title says all. rated T for coming violence
1. bad news on the door step

**Chap 1: bad news on the door step**

"... The democracy is wavering to a breaking point with in the last month after the appointment of the new Prime Minister, Prime Minister Leverrier. There is a new order of lock down throughout all of Great Britain. This news is being broadcast publicly, throughout the entire country..."

The white haired teen sighed, put down the glass he had been drying and turned to the TV;

"I repeat this is a country wide lock down; the absolute ban of music,"

_What?!?! _He was glad he had put the glass down or else he would have dropped it.

"...law enforcement squads will be confiscating all possessions of musical ability, instruments and stereos etc... from homes, schools and industries, over all of this next week. We urge you not to resist-"

The noise was cut off as the TV wet blank. Allen felt sick as he put the remote down, the whole world seemed to stop. Allen Walker was 16 years old and lived in a small house on his own in a cute little suburb, still in high school; he was a scholarship music student, and his most prized possession was his shiny, black Grande Piano, which was currently hiding in his lounge room. (His house was so small that it took up most of the room and blocked the entrance from the dining/kitchen area.)

He ran to the front door and stuck his head outside. The sun was beginning to set, but in the dying light and silence of the afternoon, he could see others peeking out windows, or much the same as himself, standing worried in their front gardens.

No music? How can some one enforce a music ban?

Then he heard them; the sirens.

His breath caught and his heart beat faster. He closed, locked and bolted the front door. Trying to remain remotely calm; he ran to his piano, turning off lights as he went. In front of his treasure he bounced from foot to foot in panic.

_What to do what to do what to do?_

The good thing about his small houses was that it was a split level, so there was room beneath his floor boards. The problem was getting the Grande Piano down there. He knew he still had time as the government would be searching every home thoroughly, and trucks were always slow. He felt horrible for not worrying about other people who were now currently losing the items, for the sake of some extra time for him to hide his.

He ran to the kitchen and grabbed his tool box. Kneeling down, as he went under his baby, he whispered; "I'm so sorry."

Then wiping away a tear, he started to unscrew the bolts holding the instrument together. It took a lot of effort, especially for a vertically challenged boy of his age, but he was racing against time and eventually he got the top off of the legs. Flipping up the rug, he wrenched out some floor boards wrapped the shiny legs up in a cloth and stowed them a way.

_BANG BANG BANG! "Open up! Under the law of the new Prime Minister, we have the right to arrest you if you resist!"_

Allen was panicking now. They were next door. He looked behind him at his broken stool and legless piano. He wrapped the pieces of piano seat up and pushed them beneath the floor boards. His hands were shaking and he pounded the floor boards back into place, covering the hole with a rug.

_BANG BANG BANG!_

It was his door. They were here!

"OPEN UP!"

He spun around. He still had a great big fucking piano to hide. He ran his trembling hands through his hair; "I-" tries again, louder;

"I'M COMING! GIVE ME A MINUTE!"

"Please do not resist! We have the right to arrest you!" a foreboding voice yelled from outside the locked door, as they began banging again.

Out on the street the teen could hear people yelling and pleading. The music was going.

He ran towards the back of the house, where the linen cupboards resided. He grabbed a white fluffy towel, a maroon tablecloth and then he pulled out all four of the wooden shelves causing piles of linen to fall. Slamming the door closed he ran back to the lounge room where the police were still trying to bang the door down;

"If you don't open in 10 seconds we shall proceed to knock the door down!"

"Yeah hang on minute!" Allen yelled back. As gently as he could he laid the shelves down on top of his piano, making a square top. Throwing the table cloth over it; he now had a coffee table in the middle of his floor. A really big coffee table.

Back in the kitchen, he had ripped off his shirt and thrown his head in the sink, wetting all his hair, while he wrapped his waste in a towel, covering his shorts.

He took a deep breath and tried to look calm as he opened the door.

"Hello there officer, what can I do you for?" he strained, smiling politely, with water dripping down his face.

"We're here to search this residence for music transmitters of any form, by strict order of the Prime Minister. You should watch the news."

"Sorry I was in the show-" he was cut off as the officers stormed in, obviously sick of the chit chat. There were a lot of them but Allen couldn't help but notice that one of the officers had wet cheeks, and he looked down.

He heard them storming all through his house.

Searching. Searching. Searching.

His heart skipped a beat every time they creaked they made the floor boards creak passed his 'coffee table.'

Less than 10 minutes later he squished himself up against the wall as they stormed out, carrying quite a few of his possessions. His radio, stereo, mP3 player, boxes of CDs and DVDs, his golden harmonica which he had always kept on his bedside. A present given to him by his foster father; Timpcanpy. They were all gone.

And once the house was silent, with out bothering to even close the front door. Allen Walker slid down the wall and cried.

The music was gone.

End chap 1

**A/N I'm writing a lot of different fanfics at the moment, even if theyre not all out in the world wide web yet. And I'm sorry to those who want me to update my other ones when instead I started a new one. I am sorry but this is one of those stories that come to you and you're like oh my god! I must write that ASAP! And yeah so I did. This came to me at work when I was listening to the song; "American Pie" by Don McLean. And that pretty self explanatory.**

**Please review!**


	2. my hands were clenched in fists of rage

**chapter 2: my hands were clenched in fists of rage**

He hadn't moved from his place. All night, his bum numb from the stiff carpet, his back now rigid and cold from sleeping against the wall. His eyes swollen and sore.

The last he wanted to do when he opened his protesting eye lids that morning, was to walk out of the house and go to school; as though everything was normal. Everything was _not_ normal, nothing was ok. What was the point of taking music away? Why would they do it, what was there to gain? It was almost like suppressing the right to express oneself. What, were they going to ban poetry and visual art next? He almost laughed out of sadism. Everything was screwed up. Allen was sure people would be out of jobs now. Record companies, thousands, millions of people with nothing to do. Wasn't society already facing an economic crisis? Now we had yet a greater number of unemployed.

And school. Allen was a music student, music, as a subject, took up the majority of his classes, he was learning three instruments, was in the orchestra, and jazz band. Now what? They were taking the instruments away, was he supposed to start studying science. He sat up suddenly, almost snapping his back.

They were taking the instruments away. Throwing a shirt on and ripping the towel off he slammed open his front door. Screw locking it, he didn't even close the damned thing; he ran full pelt the 20 minute walk to school. No shoes, if he could show some sort of fight, the blisters and cuts would be more than worth it. Heck if he could show at least a little less cowardice than the night before, a broken spine would be worth it.

Coward. He disgusted himself.

He didn't want to admit, but Yu Kanda was feeling very much the same as everyone else. Not just furious about the music ban. No, he was open with that emotion. He played the violin, and he incredibly proud of being able to keep it. A successful hide. As if he would let those ass-wipes of political personal take away his most prized possession. He would have killed them or himself before that ever happened. Heck he would have pulled massacre onto the country.

No he was also leaning out the window, much more casually than all the other students. And he certainly wasn't whispering like an idiot. He was, however, genuinely curious. Every student in Koku High was waiting for the music prodigy, the most music obsessive student to arrive, Allen Walker. In Kanda's opinion, the British kid wasn't all that great; it was just the fact that he devoted himself so much to the subject; failing math and barely passing English, just so he could have extraordinary results through music.

Kanda himself, coming from a traditional Japanese family was expected to excel in all subjects. And all though he wasn't all over As, he was passing every subject. He'd been learning how to read music, before he was learning to _read_, and learning the violin since the age of four. He was a professional, but in tight areas, he could acknowledge that Walker worked broadly. It didn't mean anything to him. because of his families values and culture in general, Kanda Yu had a very stoic personality, refusing to let people come too close. He kept to himself, so much so that to an extent; he found others to be annoying wastes of time. Not for much longer though, he'd be graduating soon. He flicked his long hair angrily, and he narrowed his dark, acute eyes as the soldiers removed instrument and radio from his school.

All of the students had been locked in the upstairs classrooms to stop a revolt, and cause possible harm to befall the students. The only problem was that the student the staff should be most concerned about was yet to arrive. The Asian student barely another 3 minutes before he saw the running figure growing bigger as it came towards the school.

"Tch. Idiot." From here he could see that he hadn't even dressed before leaving the house, his hair was a complete bird's nest, long strands sticking up in every direction. Other students began noticing him; calling to each other and pointing. The teachers began to gasp; making eye contact some began to head down stairs. Kanda focused on the white haired pianist. The timing was uncanny, upon stepping on canvas the 'soldiers'- if they could be called that, soldiers fought for the people, not against them- were trying to lift the school's grand piano into the truck, very haphazardly. Before anyone knew what was happening, the white haired teen pulled back a mutated red fist and punched one of the soldiers square across the jaw. He then proceeded to kick another right where it hurts most, before latching himself onto the piano and pulling it back towards the school.

Upstairs; students were cheering now, somewhere even trying to get past the teachers to help. Kanda found it slightly amusing to see that not all of them were even music students, some sportos looking for an adrenalin rush. A gasp turned the violinist back to the front of the school. A soldier had now grabbed the small teen in a head lock, pulling him away from the shiny instrument. Allen fought and struggled, too skinny for the guy in green, he slipped out of the hold, turning around and punching the guy right in the guts. It didn't much though; the soldier was momentarily winded as the teen turned around again to deal with the new onslaught of attackers. Recovered, the soldier grabbed his arms and held Walker in the air as another soldier swung his fist repeatedly into the small boy's abdomen, until eventually his head hung limp.

Only then did the teachers step forward. Kanda growled deep within his throat.

Cowards.

There would be others. He knew there would be others who wouldn't stand for this. An example was now unconscious two storeys below him. Sure there were some pathetic excuses for people here who would sit down and take this shitty change. But the government can only have so much power, and the power was only there so long as the people were afraid. But Kanda wasn't afraid, and he knew now that neither was the Walker kid.

**A/N woot! Im on a fanfic updating rampage man! Four fics in two days XD im so excited anyways... hope this chaps ok.. its like one 1:18 in the morning and I had less than 4 hours sleep last night... but I saw the dragon ball movie XD bahaha it was hilarious. If you read, or have read talk back, you will see my reference.. although I dissed it in there but I actually kinda liked it. I love all that corny stuff. Sad to say. Erm well I hope you liked it**

**Please review**


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